Through this place of love move (with brightness of peace) all places. –E. E. Cummings

Sunday, March 11, 2018

in a dark time, excerpt

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In a dark time, the eye begins to see,I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;I hear my echo in the echoing wood -A lord of nature weeping to a tree.I live between the heron and the wren,Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den.

What's madness but nobility of soulAt odds with circumstance? The day's on fire!I know the purity of pure despair,My shadow pinned against a sweating wall.That place among the rocks - is it a cave,Or winding path? The edge is what I have.